


what makes your heart bloom

by IceImagines



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beauyasha week 2020, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Useless Lesbians, bakery employee beau, everyone is human, garden center worker yasha, inspired directly by my own place of work, it's like almost a coffee shop au but it's also not, no magic, shadowgast is background, very very little angst, wingman jester (i've used that tag before)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceImagines/pseuds/IceImagines
Summary: Beau has a part time job at a bakery that shares a building with a garden center. Nothing interesting ever happens until one day one of the garden center employees walks in, and suddenly work doesn't seem all that bad anymore.or,A story of how lesbian love overcomes even the strongest distaste for coffee.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 13
Kudos: 116





	what makes your heart bloom

**Author's Note:**

> boy howdy did i have to go on a crunch for this one
> 
> this is part one, part two will be uploaded whenever i get around to finishing it LMAO i was planning on posting the full thing today but i didnt get it done in time bc i am a crazy person and instead of writing a nice ficlet i planned out a 20k word monster for beauyasha week
> 
> i realized belatedly this would also fit the flowers prompt but it was written with prompt 3 - modern au in mind.
> 
> enjoy

Work was dead. Not that that was out of the ordinary. Beau wasn't sure she'd seen a busy day in the four and a half months since she'd started working at the bakery and café in the shittiest, ugliest part of a city that was already shitty and ugly. Why anyone had thought it was a good idea to open store here, among industrial buildings, factories and a couple of gas stations, was a mystery to her, and why they hadn't closed yet even more so. 

But truth be told, she wasn't going to complain. She wasn't here because she possessed an overwhelming love of pastries and selling pastries to people, after all, unlike Jester, her only coworker and best friend from high school. Jester had been the one that had gotten Beau the job, although Beau didn't think she'd had to do a lot of persuading. This wasn't exactly the most sought after position around; in fact, corporate was probably desperate for people who wanted to work here at all.

So Beau worked at a bakery now. If someone had told her that she would end up doing this two years ago she'd have laughed in their face. But it really wasn't the worst thing in the world. A few times a week she took the bus here after her last class of the day, she changed into her hilariously ugly uniform, sat down in a chair behind the counter that she definitely wasn't supposed to have but nobody cared enough to remove, and spent most of the following six or seven hours doing homework or studying for whatever exam was coming up next. She was in her last semester of studying history at one of the area's more prolific universities, and there was always more than enough to do. Too much, in fact. 

Would she have gotten away with working on her thesis while clocked in at literally any other job? No. Which was precisely why Beau hadn't quit yet despite the bleary surroundings and shitty pay, although she did also relish the chance to talk to Jester. It wasn't like anybody cared if Jester loudly told her about how well Nugget, her new puppy, had done at dog training yesterday while taking croissants out of the oven in the back. 

They had a couple of regulars, all of which Beau knew pretty well by now. Almost all of them were workers from the only other store on the block: a hardware store and garden center with a tree nursery, which was in the same building as the bakery. The main entrance that Beau entered through at the start of her shift opened up into a wide hallway. On the right side, large automated sliding doors opened up into the machinery section of the hardware store; on the left was the bakery counter and a couple of tables and chairs, which were usually unoccupied. 

The hardware store saw a great deal more patronage than the bakery did. Beau saw more customers there in one day than she had had in the entire time she'd been working here. The employees' jobs were definitely a lot worse than hers. She was glad she'd had the foresight not to even try applying there, even though hauling huge buckets of paint and whatnot around all day sounded more like her thing than selling shitty coffee and bread rolls, at least on paper. But this was a whole lot less stressful. 

This was something she knew for a fact, because she knew most of her regulars' coffee orders by heart and almost all of them included more espresso shots than reasonable. Beau didn't question it; she'd pulled more than one all nighter with zero hours of sleep and approximately fifteen cups of black coffee in her system. These guys looked like they were very close to asking her to put some vodka into their drinks sometimes. Beau felt bad for them.

Mostly they all filed into the bakery around noon, give or take, when they had their breaks. Right now, it was three pm, and Beau had sent the last of them on his way with his coffee and a ham sandwich over an hour ago. Jester was in the kitchen working on some pastry that was probably too sugary and definitely not on the official menu. Beau could faintly hear her singing some upbeat tune to herself from her usual spot behind the counter. 

The only other person in the café was Beau's only regular that did not work at the hardware store. His name was Caleb, he taught a college class in English literature at another university. Since she'd started working here, he came in every morning at nine thirty exactly, ordered a coffee with the tiniest bit of milk and sugar, and sat down at the corner table with his laptop, where he stayed for the next several hours, sometimes well into the afternoon. Beau had become pretty good friends with him. He spent a lot of time absorbed in whatever it was he was typing at so feverishly, but he took the occasional break to talk to her. An intelligent, soft-spoken man with a mellow German accent, someone who related to Beau's fascination with ancient history. She enjoyed his company.

But right now, Caleb was working on something he hadn't looked up from in the past hour. Beau's homework was already finished, miraculously. 

She was bored out of her mind.

Reclined in her chair in a way that certainly didn't _look_ comfortable to any onlookers, she absentmindedly watched a fly buzzing around, occasionally shooing it away with her hand when it looked like it wanted to land on the pastries. She could see the parking lot outside from here, dark asphalt, a dozen or so cars, a tree planted in a small square of soil in the middle of it in a pitiful attempt at making the environment look less dreary. If Beau squinted, she could see scattered spots of green on the branches, the first signs that spring truly was coming. One welcome sight at least. 

"Excuse me?" 

Beau looked up.

Speaking of welcome sights.

The woman on the other side of the counter was wearing the uniform of the garden center workers, a forest green polo with the logo embroidered on the breast pocket, and Beau couldn't stop her eyes from instantly zeroing in on the way the fabric stretched taut over broad shoulders, the short sleeves revealing arms almost as thick as Beau's thighs. She watched, mesmerized, the way the woman's enviably well defined bicep bulged a little when she leaned on her forearms on top of the counter, which was definitely not meant to only reach a little over her waist. 

Beau got out of her chair a little too hastily, almost making it tip backwards with the force of motion. 

"Can I help you?"

"Um, yes, I'd like a black coffee, please." 

Her voice was softer than Beau would have expected from someone this built. Now that she had a chance to get a better look at the newcomer's face, Beau found herself staring again. Everything about her was striking. Very pale skin, black hair fading to white at the ends pulled back into a messy bun that a few strands had fallen out of. Her eyes were two different colors, one green, the other a dark blue that almost looked violet. A thin black stripe was tattooed on her chin and her bottom lip, there was an ever so slight sheen of sweat on her forehead, and a little bit of dirt was smeared on her cheek. 

_Adorable_ , Beau caught herself thinking, before remembering that she did, in fact, have an order to fulfill.

"Oh, yeah. One second." 

She stumbled through the familiar motions of working the coffee machine, hyperaware of the woman's heterochromatic eyes at her back. Well, probably more like the back of her head. If Beau had to guess she'd have put her at over six feet easily, possibly halfway to seven. As if those arms weren't already doing enough to make Beau forget how to string words together.

She turned and handed the woman her drink, hopefully subtly trying to get a look at her name tag. _Yasha Nydoorin_ , she read. _Gardening department._

"I haven't seen you here before," Beau remarked while Yasha slid a few dollar bills across the counter. "You a new hire?" 

"Oh, I- no, I've been working here for almost two years." She didn't quite meet Beau's eyes, and was that a hint of pink creeping up on her pale cheeks? "I just, um, don't usually drink coffee."

Beau counted change into Yasha's hand - a large hand with short nails and a callus or two, clearly the hand of someone who did hard physical work. "Rough day, then?" 

Yeah, okay, Yasha was definitely blushing, even though Beau wasn't sure at what. 

"Thank you," she murmured. "Yes. Rough day, I suppose." 

She took a step back, holding her coffee, and gave an awkward little wave with her free hand that somehow was the cutest thing Beau had ever seen in her life. "Bye." 

With that, she turned around and walked out, a little too quickly, towards the small door next to the hardware store entrance that led to the staff rooms. Beau watched her go, more than a little dumbstruck. 

"Wow," came Caleb's voice from the corner. He had finally looked up from his laptop and was giving Beau a look that was equal parts amused and bewildered. "That was impressive, even by your standards." 

"Shut up, Widogast," Beau grumbled. "I was making perfectly fine smalltalk."

"Perfectly fine smalltalk that somehow made all six and a half feet of your conversation partner look like a deer in headlights." 

"I really don't think that was entirely on me," Beau protested. 

"It's true, that girl was even more awkward than Beau." Jester's head poked out of the door to the back. 

"You heard that?"

"Of course I did," Jester chirped. "Now come and help me decorate these cupcakes, Beau." 

Decorating cupcakes didn't sound like such a bad idea right now. Maybe it would distract her from thinking about how she'd managed to make a fool out of herself in front of possibly the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. 

Beau sighed and followed Jester into the kitchen.

*

"Now, now, what's this? Yasha Nydoorin drinking coffee?"

Mollymauk grinned up at Yasha as she approached the table in the break room they usually shared with Fjord and Veth. Right now, her best friend (and manager, as it happened) was the only other person in the room; everyone else had taken their breaks hours ago. 

She pulled the chair opposite him back and sat, her cheeks still faintly burning with embarrassment from the encounter she'd just had.

"The new intern was driving me crazy. I was afraid I wouldn't make it through the day otherwise." She took a sip of her coffee and made a face. There was a reason she didn't like to drink this stuff. 

"Come on, the kid's not that bad." Molly leaned forward across the table a little.

"Sure," she murmured, "he dropped three potted plants within the first two hours and he can't tell lavender from rosemary, but sure, he's not that bad." 

Molly's purple rimmed eyes narrowed. "Yasha, you're all red in the face. What happened?" 

"Nothing." 

"I don't think I've ever seen you blush in the whole time I've known you."

"I'm not sure that's reliable information." 

"Yashaaa," he whined. "I'm bored to death. Have mercy and indulge me, okay? A little bit of gossip is exactly what I need to distract me from the horrible reality of the plant killing intern waiting for us downstairs and the ten grandmas probably queueing up to get first grabs at our new selection of primroses." 

Yasha couldn't help but smile. Molly with his bright purple hair, colorful makeup that wasn't strictly in line with company dress code, and tattoos all over his body looked terribly out of place next to her more often than not, but he was one of her favorite people, with all his overdramatic antics and odd, irresistible charm. 

"I made a fool out of myself," she admitted, "in front of the barista down in the café." 

Molly raised a dyed eyebrow. "How so?"

Yasha sighed. "You know me. My... brain just isn't friends with my mouth sometimes."

"I know, that's the case most of the time, which is why I'm curious about what makes this time special." 

Yasha thought of the barista's startling blue eyes, her deep, slightly raspy voice, how her fingers had briefly brushed Yasha's while handing her her coffee. She felt her cheeks growing warm again.

"A- _ha!_ " Molly exclaimed, leaning so far over the table that Yasha was worried he'd knock over his own glass of water. "So you thought the barista was cute, huh!" 

"No, I didn't." Yasha was painfully aware that that reply had come much too quickly. Molly fell back into his chair, looking very much like the cat that got the canary.

"You thought she was cute," he repeated. "Unbelievable. I never thought I'd see the day that Yasha Nydoorin would fall victim to the charm of a pretty girl. Which one's shift is it right now?"

Yasha could only shrug helplessly.

"Don't tell me you didn't even get her name!" 

"She wasn't wearing a name tag!" Yasha defended herself.

"You could have asked!"

" _How?_ " 

"The same way you ask everyone for their name!" 

Yasha groaned. "You know exactly what I mean. Just because it's easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me." _More like impossible._

Molly threw his hands up. "Okay, then describe her. Maybe I know her. Only a handful of people work at that bakery." 

"Uh... a bit shorter than you, brown hair, undercut, blue eyes, a small scar above her eyebrow?" 

Molly barked a laugh. Yasha gave him a startled and slightly irritated look. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, God, you have the hots for Beau. This is going to be hilarious." 

"I wouldn't say I have... the hots for her. I've met her once." 

"Sure, sure." 

Yasha dropped her head onto the table. Maybe she should've asked for a shot in her coffee.

*

A few days later, Beau was in the middle of making Caleb another one of his minimalist coffees. As much empathy as she had for all the people who ordered these dozen-espresso-shot monstrosities, she didn't really understand how anyone could subject themselves to that. She was more of a cappuccino drinker herself.

Quietly shaking her head, she added the usual tiny bit of milk to the drink. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone entering the bakery. 

"One second," she said without looking up when they approached the counter. She picked up the cup and was about to take it over to Caleb's table when her eyes landed on the newcomer, and she almost dropped the drink. 

It was Yasha, the woman from the other day, with the amazing arms and the soft voice. Her hair was down today, and she already had a hint of that adorable blush on her cheeks again. 

"Oh," Beau said. "Hi." 

Yasha cleared her throat. "Hi." 

"I just..." Beau awkwardly gestured towards the coffee she was still holding, heat rising to her face. "I'll, uh, be right there." 

She pushed past her, trying not to think too hard about the fact that her arm had just almost brushed Yasha's. Caleb gave her a look when she put his drink down on his table. A _look._ Beau felt like he was trying to tell her something, but seeing as how her higher brain functions had once again temporarily short circuited, it really was a bit much to ask her to figure out what that was. 

She hurried back behind the counter, brushing some hair that had fallen out of her topknot behind her ear. 

"So, what can I get you?" 

She managed to not stumble over her words while saying it, and mentally gave herself a pat on the back for that small victory. 

"I-" Yasha swallowed visibly. "I don't know what any of the things on there are." She gestured to the menu hanging on the wall behind Beau. 

Beau had to stifle a laugh. "That's fair. I take it the black coffee wasn't your thing, then?" 

"Ah, no. It was... I think it was too strong for my tastes." Her face seemed to turn redder with every word she said. "Not- not because you did anything wrong, or-"

"No, no, no, don't worry," Beau interrupted her. "I hate that stuff too. I don't know where everyone else gets the appeal from." 

Yasha gave her a relieved, slightly nervous, but genuine looking smile. "Me neither," she confessed. God, that voice. Beau would've gladly listened to this woman reading a phone book out loud for hours. 

"How about a latte, then?" 

"I don't know what that is, but you're the expert, so..." Yasha fidgeted with her hands. "I trust your judgement." 

For some unfathomable reason that made something warm and fluttery erupt in the pit of Beau's stomach. She nodded hastily to distract herself from it. "On it." 

She got started on Yasha's drink, distantly wondering where the hell Jester was. Maybe she'd gone on an unsanctioned grocery run during work hours again. Sometimes she decided she really needed a specific decoration, right now, for the cupcakes she wasn't supposed to be making, and left to go to the baking supply store, forgetting or ignoring the fact that she was leaving Beau, the temp worker, alone in charge of the bakery.

But maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Jester wasn't here. At least that meant that she couldn't grill Beau about how awkward she'd been with Yasha again later. 

"Having another rough day?" she asked over her shoulder. "Seeing as how your last visit here didn't exactly make you realize coffee is actually your favorite thing in the world..." 

A deep sigh. "We have an intern."

Beau made a sympathetic noise.

"Sometimes I wonder if it would get me fired to dunk his head in a pot of soil," Yasha deadpanned, and Beau burst out laughing. 

"That bad?" 

"Worse. He doesn't know the first thing about plants. I don't know why he bothered to apply for this position." A heated tone was creeping into her voice. Beau found it distracting. Very distracting. She barely caught herself in time not to completely overfill Yasha's coffee cup.

"I don't know, maybe he thinks _garden center_ will look nice on his resume?" She carefully picked the (very full) cup up and took it over to the counter. Yasha gave her a very doubtful look, and she chuckled.

"Yeah, probably not." She handed Yasha her drink. "There you go. Let's see if this isn't more up your alley." 

"Thanks." Yasha gave her another one of those adorable shy little smiles while producing another few slightly crumpled up dollar bills from her pocket. She was the only one of Beau's customers that didn't pay with a card. Somehow Beau found even that endearing. She was starting to think she just found everything about Yasha extremely endearing. 

Then Yasha reached up with her free hand to brush her hair out of her face in a motion that definitely shouldn't have looked that graceful, and Beau remembered that maybe she didn't _only_ find her endearing. 

For a few moments, they stared each other, neither saying anything. Beau once more became acutely aware of the fact that Yasha's eyes were two different colors, and that they were probably the most beautiful eyes Beau had ever seen, and she really wanted to just keep looking at this woman for the rest of today or maybe forever. But then Yasha cleared her throat and the spell was broken. 

"I should, um, probably get going." 

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. You do that." After a beat, Beau added: "Think I'll be seeing you here more often now?"

Yasha seemed to try very hard to look anywhere except Beau's face. "Maybe you will." 

Beau grinned a slightly breathless grin, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling that was making its presence known again. "Well. Have fun with the intern."

"Oh, I will. Definitely." Yasha's expression looked a little like the fun she meant might get her arrested for first degree murder. _Hot._

After she had exited the café, Beau was rudely torn from her cute girl induced reverie by slow clapping from the corner table. 

"That was almost a full conversation, Beauregard," Caleb said, and only sounded like he was teasing her a little. "Congratulations." 

"Fuck you, Widogast." 

"I don't think Caleb is the one she's interested in fucking," came Jester's singsong from the kitchen. Beau's head whipped around.

"Were you there the whole time?" 

Jester came through the door, tying her apron behind her back. "No, I went to buy more rainbow sprinkles. I just caught the end of it." 

Beau sighed. "You know you're not supposed to do that, right?" 

Jester's big blue eyes blinked up at her innocently. "But why, Beau? It makes the pastries look so much nicer!" 

It did make the pastries look nicer. 

"Well, just don't let corporate hear about it," Beau grumbled. 

"The only way corporate would hear about it would be if you snitched, and you would never do that because you love me." Jester giggled. "Seriously though, you're making progress with your people skills. I'm proud of you." 

"Thank you," Beau deadpanned. 

"To be fair, the bar set by the last time was not very high," Caleb commented. 

"Shut up and go back to your nerd shit." Beau picked up a rag from somewhere and started wiping the counter down. 

"Next time you should ask her for her number, Beau." Jester sounded dead serious, which was the most terrifying part.

"I think the fuck not. She's a customer, that would be weird. And creepy." 

"You want her number though." 

"No." A pause. "Okay, maybe I do." 

Jester sidled up next to her. "You could ask Fjord. Maybe he knows her." 

"That would also be weird." 

Jester groaned. 

"You can lead a horse to the water..." Caleb sounded amused. Jester bounded over to his table. 

"Caleb, we should totally team up to get Beau that girl's number. We would be unstoppable." 

Beau watched it happen with a deep feeling of resignation. At this rate, she'd have to ask Yasha for her number just to avoid Jester coming up with some grand disastrous plan that would ruin Yasha's opinion on her forever.

Not that Yasha probably had much of an opinion on her, because she'd talked to Beau twice, and the first time barely counted.

Gods, she was fucked.

*

Beau loved Fjord like a brother, she really did. And she'd happily agreed to help him improve his workout routine when he'd asked her for advice a couple of months ago. She'd been taking him to the gym with her twice a week ever since, and it really wasn't an issue.

She just wished sometimes that she didn't have to practically storm his house with a battering ram every time. 

"Fjord! Get your ass out here!" She punched more than pressed the doorbell button two more times, hoping it would finally get him to hurry up. "I don't have all day!" 

Beau was still deciding whether physically kicking the door was worth his ire when it was suddenly opened from the inside and she found herself face to face with a very irritated looking Fjord Stone. His hair was a mess and there were dark circles under his eyes, making him look like she'd just woken him up and the sleep he had gotten probably wasn't anywhere near enough. 

"What the hell, Beau," he ground out.

"It's Wednesday, my dude. Gym day." 

Fjord looked like he was about to protest, then stopped to think and let out a defeated sounding groan instead. "Oh God, it is, isn't it." 

"Go grab your stuff," Beau said mercilessly. "Your lack of understanding of the linear flow of time isn't my fault."

"Fuck you," he grumbled, but he was already making his way back inside to gather his gym clothes. 

Twenty minutes later they walked through the door to the gym, Fjord slightly more awake, although still very much grouchy. Beau dragged him to the changing rooms, tried very hard not to be impatient when he took way longer than reasonable, and then went over to the treadmills with him, fully prepared to yell at him as soon as he showed signs of slacking off, which would probably be within the first three minutes. 

Beau started on a nice, slow walk on her treadmill, letting her gaze drift through the room with little interest. Most of the regulars were there, a couple of people she didn't recognize, and there, in the corner with the heavy weights...

Beau's eyes narrowed. Where had she seen the tall, pale woman with the dark hair before...? 

The woman turned around, and Beau nearly fell off the treadmill. 

Yasha was here. Oh God, Yasha was here. And she was wearing skintight leggings and a sports bra that showed off her _holy shit incredible_ abs and those arms that Beau had admired so much during their previous encounters. She was a little sweaty, and that dumbbell in her hand looked really heavy, wow. 

She had earbuds in and didn't seem to have noticed Beau, which Beau thanked any higher entity that might have been listening for. Half because she really wasn't in the mood to embarrass herself further, again, and half because, well. 

Watching Yasha lifting weights certainly proved better entertainment than yelling at Fjord to stop being lazy. Beau watched with rapt attention as she turned again and put the big dumbbell down in favor of a barbell that looked like Beau would barely have been able to get it off the ground. She lifted it over her shoulders and Beau barely had enough time to admire the way her back and shoulder muscles flexed at the motion when Yasha fell into a deep squat, and Beau did fall off her treadmill this time. 

She hit her knee pretty hard and sat on the ground clutching it while seeing stars from pain for a few seconds. A couple of people in the vicinity were staring at her, and she glared at them, even though she was pretty sure her face had turned deep red from the way it felt like it was burning up. 

"You okay?" Fjord asked, sounding concerned. 

"Yeah, yeah, keep running," she ground out. _Falling off a treadmill because of a hot girl? Really, Beauregard? Really?_

"Uh... Beau?" came a hesitant voice from behind her. "Are you alright?" 

Beau wanted to bang her head against the floor. She'd seen. Of course she had. 

She stood up, a bit too hastily. She almost tripped over her own feet and stumbled when a pair of very large, warm hands grabbed her upper arms and steadied her. Beau was pretty sure her heart skipped a beat. Impressive how a situation could get so much worse and so much better at the same time so quickly. 

Slowly, she lifted her head and found herself face to face with a very concerned looking Yasha. Those eyes, man. They made it difficult to think. As did the fact that they were suddenly very close, close enough that Beau could count her eyelashes and feel the warmth she radiated from her workout. 

"Beau?" Yasha asked again, and Beau remembered that Yasha had asked her a question.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, I'm good. The, uh, the treadmill must have stuttered or something. Caught me off guard." She laughed nervously, trying to play off how flustered this whole situation had her. Goddammit, she wasn't usually this useless around women. What was wrong with her? 

Yasha let go of her and took a step back, much to Beau's dismay. Then again, they were in a very public place. In fact, Beau was pretty sure Fjord was staring at her disappointedly right now, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from Yasha's face. 

"Uh... how do you know my name?" She realized belatedly what a terrible question that was, but she never wore her name tag at work, and she didn't recall telling Yasha, who rubbed the back of her neck self consciously.

"Mollymauk told me," she said. "Tealeaf. My manager." 

Beau knew Molly well enough, it was more or less impossible not to if you regularly spent time in his vague vicinity. His usual order was a nightmare of espresso shots, disgusting amounts of sugar and caramel sauce that had taken Beau longer than most to memorize, even though the person it belonged to was so hard to forget. 

She wasn't surprised that Molly had been able to tell Yasha who she was, it was something else that her thoughts kept getting stuck on.

"You asked about me?" It was out before she could stop it, and she instantly wanted the ground to open up and swallow her again. That seemed to be something that happened a lot when she talked to Yasha. 

Yasha's face was as bright red as Beau's felt by now. "Well, I... yes. I just thought you were. Interesting."

Interesting? Beau's eyebrows shot up to almost her hairline. That was one she hadn't heard before. 

"I also think you're... interesting." 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fjord make a vomiting gesture. She ignored him. 

"I haven't seen you here before, and I come here pretty much every day," Beau said. "You don't look like just started working out, though." 

By God, she didn't. Beau risked another look at Yasha's incredible abs and had to resist the urge to try and find out if they were as rock hard as they looked. 

"Yes, I went to a different gym before. Today is the first time I've been here." Yasha crossed her arms, and Beau swore her mouth watered at the way it made her biceps bulge. 

"Got a particular reason for switching?" 

Yasha's expression darkened at that. "Unfortunately. There's someone I met at my old gym who, ah, was giving me trouble." 

"Giving _you_ trouble?" 

Yasha let out a little chuckle that made Beau's head swim a little bit. "He isn't someone deterred by a punch to the face, I'm afraid. I decided to just go to a different gym to avoid him. I just hope he won't follow me here." 

"If he does," Beau said seriously, "let me know and I'll help you fuck the guy up." 

"I'll keep that in mind." Yasha gave her another one of her slightly shy smiles that Beau never would've expected from someone with her appearance, but that she found hopelessly enamoring nonetheless. She found herself transfixed by those incredible eyes again. The blue one really did almost look violet...

Beau didn't realize she was staring until Fjord loudly cleared his throat next to her.

"Hey, Yasha," he said, sounding very, very tired. Yasha turned to him, looking surprised like she'd just noticed he was there.

"Oh, hi Fjord."

Beau looked between the two of them, puzzled. "You guys know each other?" 

"We work in the same store, Beau," Fjord sighed. 

"Different departments! And it's a big ass store!" 

"We go on lunch break together," Yasha said, then gave Fjord an unreadable look. "You know, you told me that you had a friend that kept dragging you along to workouts, but you didn't say she was so-" 

"Hey, he asked me to help him!" Beau interrupted, realizing a moment too late what the sentence was that she'd just cut off, and she wanted the floor to swallow her up yet again. 

Fjord and Yasha started bickering about work and how poorly in shape Fjord was, and Beau was honestly quite content to stand next to them and admire the way Yasha's back muscles shifted every time she moved. 

It was maybe the least productive workout she'd had in the past three years, but it was definitely the goddamned best one.

*

Beau was sitting behind the counter in the bakery trying to study. It was towards the end of her shift and she was tired enough to fall asleep where she sat. She'd had a lot of lectures this morning and work had been uncharacteristically busy. In thirty-six minutes she could go home, but the minutes until then were crawling by like years, and her eyes refused to focus on the words she was trying to comprehend. Caleb had already left and Jester had her day off today.

She took another look at her phone (that she also wasn't supposed to have while clocked in). Thirty-four minutes. She sighed. Maybe she should just give up her textbook on ancient Mesopotamian societal structures in favor of playing Tetris on her phone. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving outside. Beau looked up just in time to see none other than Yasha, dragging not one but two carts full of potted plants through the hallway. They were slightly taller than her, which was saying something about just how many plants were really on them. They looked like Beau would've had to really dig her feet into the ground to get even one of them moving, let alone two. 

Beau could see from her spot behind the counter how tensed Yasha's arm muscles were. She felt very warm suddenly, and cursed herself for it. How was she this easy to impress? All a woman had to do to win her over was to carry or push something heavy around and Beau turned into goo, was that how it was now? She'd always been the one who impressed girls with her amazing abs that she owed to years of martial arts training and rigorous workout regimens, not the other way around. But there was just something about the sheer _strength_ that laid in Yasha's every move, not even just when she was actually moving heavy things, but in the way she carried herself. There was a presence about her, despite how quiet she was.

She'd been coming by for coffee regularly since Beau had run into her at the gym. They had tweaked her order together to a point where she did actually enjoy drinking it instead of just doing it to make it through the day. Yasha lost a little more of her awkwardness every time she and Beau chatted while Beau made her coffee, and that fluttery feeling came back every time with renewed force.

Beau had to face it - she had one hell of a crush. Jester was ecstatic about it and had been trying very hard to get Beau to ask Yasha out or at least get her phone number, but Beau hadn't been able to work up the courage. That was also out of character for her. She never had trouble talking to girls, never had in her twenty-four years. She didn't know what made Yasha so different, but she was getting more and more inclined to ignore it and focus on the fact that she-

There was a loud crashing sound, followed by even louder, extremely colorful cursing. Beau jumped up out of her chair, suddenly not tired at all anymore. She hurried over to the sliding doors and out into the hallway and was met with the view of Yasha looking ready to tear out every last hair on her head while standing next to one of the plant carts, which had tipped over and was lying on its side, with its contents scattered across the ground around it. 

"Holy shit, are you okay?" 

Yasha glanced over to her, mild surprise mixing with the anger and frustration on her face. "Oh, hello, Beau." She dragged her hand down her face. "I'm fine, but these verbenas aren't. God, that's about two hundred of them. Most of these are probably ruined and that will be deducted from my paycheck." 

Beau bent down a little to examine the damage. "How did this happen?" 

Yasha walked over next to her and lightly kicked at something Beau hadn't noticed before: one of the wheels that had formerly been attached to the fallen cart. "The wheel came loose," she said darkly. "I've always said these things are bullshit constructions that cause nothing but trouble." 

Beau almost laughed at that. "That sounds like a personal vendetta." 

"Oh, it is." Yasha gave the cart a positively murderous glare. This time Beau could not hold back her chuckle. 

"Tell me about it sometime. Let's try to see if some of these can't be salvaged for now, yeah?" 

"You don't need to help me," Yasha said, surprised. "I mean, you... you don't even work here." 

Beau made a dismissive gesture, already crouching down to carefully pick up one of the verbenas, as Yasha had called them, and place it back in one the pots, which thankfully were plastic and had mostly survived the fall. "The bakery and the garden center are basically the same business anyway at this point. Besides, I like you." 

That last part was out before she realized it. She felt her face growing hot, at the same time that Yasha's pale cheeks suddenly took on a pink hue. 

"Um... well, thank you." Yasha took a few hesitant steps in the direction of the door to the garden center. "I will, uh, go get a different cart. I'll be right back." 

Beau sat on the floor in the middle of destroyed potted plants and spilled soil and thought about what a fucking idiot she was for a few moments. Then, with a deep sigh, she picked up the next verbena and placed it back in its pot, and the next after that, and so on. By the time Yasha had returned with a functional cart, she'd repotted a good dozen or so of them. 

Yasha crouched down next to her and joined her in her task. They worked mostly in silence, except for the occasional direction from Yasha telling Beau whether or not a plant looked salvageable, but it was a surprisingly comfortable silence. Together, they made good progress, although it still took them about half an hour to finish everything up, including the two times Yasha had to go throw away the contents of the bucket she had been smart enough to bring for the destroyed plants. By the end of it, about two thirds of the verbenas had been placed back on the cart and were looking perfectly respectable, except for the occasional specks of soil caught on leaves. Beau was pretty proud of herself, even though there was dirt caked underneath her fingernails and her feet hurt from all the crouching. It was more than worth it to see the look of relief on Yasha's face. 

"Thank you so much for helping," she said to Beau. "This would have taken a lot longer without you." 

"Hey, it's no problem at all. I was just killing time on my shift anyway." Her shift, which was actually about to be over. She'd completely forgotten the time. 

"Is there any way I can make it up to you?" 

God, Beau felt like melting every time Yasha had that adorable shy look on her face. There was something disarmingly charming about it. 

"Yasha, really, it's fine. You don't need to make it up to me. This was... well... calling it "nice" feels incorrect, but..." 

Yasha let out a soft laugh. "You're right. It was kind of nice."

"Despite the tragic death of some plants?" 

"Well..." Yasha looked down at her feet. "They died for a good cause, I think." 

Beau's heart skipped a beat again. "A- a good cause?" 

God, she sounded stupid even to her own ears. When exactly had she come this close to Yasha? 

"I do also like you." 

The words knocked into Beau like a sledgehammer, even though she knew perfectly well that she was almost certainly reading too much into them. _I like you_ was a phrase that could mean a million different things and most of them were not what she secretly hoped Yasha meant. 

_You don't know her that well_ , Beau had to remind herself again. _She orders coffee from you sometimes and you see her at the gym on Wednesdays. No need to get ahead of yourself._

It was probably already too late for that, but hey. There were no laws prohibiting self-denial.

Yasha cleared her throat and brushed some hair out of her face. God, she was beautiful. Beau wanted to stand here and keep staring at her forever.

"Well, I should... probably get back to work."

It felt a little like a bucket of ice water over the head. Beau had completely forgotten that unlike hers, Yasha's shifts did not end at five in the afternoon at the latest. 

"Yeah, yeah. 'Course," she said hurriedly, taking a step backwards and shoving her hands into her pockets, feigning nonchalance. "Uh... tell Molly I'll kick his ass if he tries to deduct those flowers from your paycheck." 

"That's not up to him, unfortunately, but it can't hurt to mention it." Yasha smiled a slightly crooked smile. "I'd believe in a heartbeat that you could kick his ass." 

"I wouldn't even break a sweat." 

"I don't doubt it." Yasha took hold of the cart they'd just refilled her, along with the second cart that Beau had almost forgotten about. "Well... I'll see you tomorrow, Beau." 

The way she said Beau's name was to die for. Nearly everything she did was. 

"See you, Yasha." 

Beau stood there for several seconds after Yasha had wheeled the carts back inside the hardware store, an expression on her face that she could only guess was probably embarrassingly dreamy. 

"So that happened," she muttered to herself under her breath before steeling herself, at least a little bit, and turning to go back into the bakery and get her stuff.

*

It was dark by the time Yasha got home. She'd worked the late shift today and after clocking out, she'd still had a commute of almost an hour ahead of her. It would have been significantly less if she didn't depend on public transportation, but Yasha wasn't allowed to drive a car. Her psychiatrist said that the chance of her having an episode behind the wheel was too great, with the way her PTSD was tied to it.

It was inconvenient, but Yasha knew it was better that way. She'd hurt enough people in her life. 

Her apartment, too, was dark when she came in, but she could smell the flowers the moment she entered. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth while she shrugged off her thick leather jacket and hung it neatly on its designated hook next to the door. Something about that smell always instantly calmed her down. She'd applied for the position at the garden store for that reason, too. Another suggestion from her psychiatrist, and after almost two years of working there, Yasha found it had been good advice. Her job wasn't always easy, but it never made her angry the way other things she'd tried doing had. 

Once she'd taken off her shoes, she padded into the living room, turning the light switch on the wall as she went. None of the lights she had installed were very bright, and they were yellow rather than white in tone. Twinkling fairy lights lined several of the walls, interwoven with the dozens of plants that covered nearly every free surface, even some parts of the floor. They were placed on shelves, small tables, a few hung from the ceiling. There was a huge wooden lattice on the wall behind the sofa that was slowly being overtaken by light green vines. Some were in full bloom, others barely flowered at all, but all of them were flourishing. Yasha watered all of them every day, and underneath the kitchen sink was a huge stash of a dozen different types of fertilizer. 

She lived alone, and the apartment complex didn't allow pets (sadly - Yasha would have loved to adopt a cat), but most days, her plants were more than enough to keep her company. Since being discharged, she'd learned to appreciate solitude in a different way. 

She had never been particularly well liked in the Army, but the nature of it meant that she had nonetheless been surrounded by people nonstop for six years. It was always loud, always busy, there was always something to be done. It had only added to the stress inherent in being deployed in the first place. 

Her only piece of comfort had been Zuala. 

She supposed she was glad she'd been so severely injured in the incident and discharged honorably soon after. She didn't think she would have been able to stand it for long without her. 

Nestled in the corner furthest from the entrance to the living room was a small table, almost hidden among all the plants. There were candles placed atop it, though they weren't lit at the moment, dried roses, and several framed pictures. 

Yasha walked over to it, picking up a lighter from one of the shelves as she went. It had been five years, and her heart didn't hurt the same way it had used to at the sight of the pictures, but she still felt it grow heavy in her chest as she started to light the candles, carefully, one by one. 

Her favorite photo was the one in the center. It was of a young woman with jaw length brown curls and the same black stripe tattooed on her chin that Yasha had. She was beaming, showing off a small gap between her incisors and dimples in both of her cheeks. Her eyes were light green, a startlingly vibrant color that Yasha distinctly remembered making her stop in her tracks the first time she'd seen her. 

A ring laid in the center of the table, a simple platinum band with few embellishments. On the inside, nine words were engraved into the metal.

 _From Zuala for Yasha. Yours, forever and a day._

Yasha hadn't worn it since the day she'd come back to the States. Zuala had died wearing hers. There hadn't been enough left of her following the explosion to recover it. 

_Forever and a day._

Her therapist told her it was normal to feel guilty. Survivor's guilt, she said, was one of the most common effects of living through trauma like that. And she was right. The fact that Zuala had died and Yasha had lived plagued her almost every day, or at least it had for most of the past five years. She hadn't been feeling it as strongly recently, and that, she couldn't help but think, was just as bad, if not worse. Did it mean that she was forgetting Zuala? Would she soon stop being able to remember what her voice sounded like, what her touch felt like? 

It was a terrifying thought. 

And what made it worse, so much worse, was the fact that these days, instead of Zuala's face, some nights Yasha saw someone else right before she fell asleep. In her dreams, sometimes she saw a woman with her back turned to her and she thought it was her wife, but then the woman turned and Yasha saw that her eyes were bright blue and her skin was dark, and she was short and wiry instead of tall and broad, and when she spoke, she talked about coffee blends and workout routines instead of flowers. 

Zuala had loved flowers. Yasha couldn't help but wonder if she would have liked Beau. 

They'd talked about what would happen if one of them died in action, of course. It had always been a possibility hanging over them like the sword of Damocles, but at the same time, it hadn't felt real. Yasha knew now how stupid and naive she had been, thinking _it won't happen to me, it won't happen to us_. But young people, soldiers especially, always thought they were invulnerable, until they weren't. 

Zuala had said that she wanted Yasha to be happy more than anything. Nothing mattered to her as much as that. 

Would she hate her for this? Standing in front of the shrine she'd built for her, thinking these thoughts? For the way her heart beat faster when she looked into Beau's eyes? 

Molly didn't think so, of course. Yasha's therapist didn't think so either, even though she wasn't sure how much that counted. The woman got paid to make Yasha feel better about herself, after all. 

She sighed. She wouldn't find an answer tonight, and she was hungry. With a last look at the photo of Zuala, she turned to go to the kitchen, considering the pizza leftovers she still had in the fridge. But then she thought that something Zuala, Beau and Molly probably all had in common was that they would want her to take care of herself better than she did most days, and she started rummaging through her cupboards for ingredients to cook herself some proper food.

Zuala's picture smiled at her from the table in the corner.

*

It was nearing 8 p.m., and Beau was in the process of closing for the night. She rarely had the closing shift, but she'd agreed to cover it for one of the other girls that worked here who had called in sick. It wasn't so bad, really. It was even less busy at these late hours than what Beau was used to; she didn't know why corporate bothered keeping the bakery open this long.

She was in the process of wiping down the coffee machine when she heard the door open. When she turned her head, she spotted a very handsome man walking in, with skin darker than her own and snowy white hair, dressed immaculately in what looked like a tailored suit. Beau definitely hadn't seen him here before, she would have remembered a figure like that.

Before she could ask if she could help him, he had reached his apparent target: the corner table where Caleb still sat hunched over his laptop. He was rarely there this late, and Beau would've had to throw him out soon. She paused in her cleaning to watch what was happening, half prepared to deal with the newcomer if he tried to bother Caleb. 

"Caleb, darling, did you forget the time again?" 

His voice was smooth and faintly accented in a way Beau couldn't place. Caleb looked up at him, a look of surprise on his face morphing into something more sheepish. He closed his laptop. 

"It looks like I did," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You work too hard," the man gently chided him. Caleb let out a soft laugh while gathering up his things and stuffing them into his bag, then rising from his chair. 

"That is ridiculous coming from you and you know it." 

The man gave him a smile and took his hand. "Let's get home, shall we? The car's parked just outside." 

Beau leaned over the counter a little. "Hey, Widogast, who's this?"

Caleb's face flushed. "Ah, Beauregard, this is my husband, Essek Thelyss." 

Beau's eyebrows shot up. Husband? How had she known Caleb for half a year and he'd never thought to mention that he was married? And to such a snobby looking pretty boy too. She'd have to question him about it later. 

Essek gave her a polite nod. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a lot about you." 

"Likewise. On the first part. I actually can't say I've heard anything about you at all." She shot Caleb a look that hopefully got the point across that he'd have to rectify that sooner than later. 

Caleb cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Well, we had better get going. It's getting late." 

"Sure is." Beau picked her rag back up and turned back to the coffee machine. "See you on Monday, Widogast." 

"Good night, Beauregard." 

Beau snuck a look over her shoulder as they left the bakery, still holding hands. She felt an odd pang of jealousy, or maybe envy was the better way to describe it. It had been years since Beau had had someone - and still, Tori and her hadn't been... like that. The closest thing to an actual relationship Beau had ever experienced, sure, but she had never expected them to last. Stay together, share a life, or, god forbid, get married. Just the thought was so ridiculous it made her chuckle.

Dating wasn't Beau's thing. It never seemed to work out when she tried, and she'd sort of come to terms with it. She was cool with it. She couldn't recall the last time she'd actually wanted anything more than the flings she kept herself entertained with when she had too much time on her hands. 

God, Tori would have made fun of her if she knew that that was starting to change because of a woman Beau barely knew, who she almost never saw outside of work and who Beau really didn't think she had a snowflake's chance in hell with. 

With a deep sigh, she was about to walk into the back kitchen to get a broom and sweep the floor when the door opened again.

"Sorry, man, we're about to close- oh, hi, Yasha." 

Yasha was wearing her work uniform, but had a bulky black leather jacket on over it and a backpack slung over one shoulder. She had clearly already clocked out and was on her way home. 

"Hey," she said, "I was on my way out and saw you... you know, cleaning and stuff, so I decided to come and check if maybe you wanted help?" 

Beau stared at her, a little dumbfounded. "I mean, it's fine, it's not like it's a lot of work, I-" She changed her mind mid sentence. Whether it made sense or not, Yasha was offering to spend time in Beau's company, and one didn't look a gift horse in the mouth, after all. 

"Sure," Beau said. "You can, uh, just..." She looked down at the rag in her hands. "Wipe down the tables," she decided. "If you're sure." 

Yasha smiled, walked up to her and took the rag. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to." 

Beau felt her face flush again and quickly took a step back. "I'll go get the broom." 

She got the broom, and returned to Yasha already having started on her task. Beau felt a little bad about accepting her offer to help, none of this was her mess, after all. But she was at the point where she relished every chance to talk to Yasha too much to care. 

"Thank God there's not a lot to clean up," she remarked as she started sweeping the floor. "Don't get enough patronage for there to be a serious mess." 

Yasha looked a little surprised. "Do not a lot of people come here?" 

"Nah. Pretty much only you guys and Caleb, the guy who's always sitting in the corner." 

"Well, their loss. They're missing out on some great coffee. And company."

Beau almost tripped over her own feet at the last part and just managed to catch herself. She cleared her throat. "Well, I'm glad you like my coffee." _I'm even more glad you like me._ "I'm, huh, honestly still a bit new to this. I've only been working here for a few months, and it's just a temp job to help pay for uni."

"Oh. Does that mean you won't be here much longer?" Yasha sounded a little sad. 

"Well, my contract runs out soonish, but I can probably extend it." She hadn't planned to, but it suddenly didn't sound like such a bad idea. "It's not like they care a lot about what goes on here. I think corporate forgets this branch even exists most of the time." 

Yasha let out a soft laugh, a beautiful, almost musical sound. "Lucky." She looked at Beau, tilting her head a little. "What are you in university for?" 

"Ancient history and archeology, with a minor in linguistics." Beau scratched the back of her neck self consciously. "Sounds boring, I know, but it's actually pretty fascinating." 

"I don't think it sounds boring. It sounds really interesting. Is it a lot of work?" 

Beau laughed. "That doesn't begin to cover it. Worth it, though." 

"It's impressive that you still have time to go to work on top of it. And the gym." Yasha moved over to the next table.

"Gotta get food on the table somehow," Beau said with a shrug. "I'm lucky I don't have to worry about tuition much." 

"Why not?" 

"I, uh, actually have a full scholarship."

Yasha looked legitimately impressed. "Beau, that's amazing."

Beau waved her off. "It's not a big deal. I might have only gotten it because my dad put a word in with the board." 

That more than likely wasn't true. She'd enrolled before completely cutting ties with her family, but her father had never cared enough about her personal success to do something like that for her. 

Beau quickly changed the subject. "What about you, hm? Did you go to college or anything?" 

"Oh, no. That was never... I'm not really very good at anything." Yasha stared down at the table she was busy with. "I didn't graduate from a normal high school because I moved here from Ukraine when I was fifteen and my English was terrible."

"Your English sounds great," Beau said, and meant it. She'd thought she could hear an ever so slight accent in Yasha's voice once or twice, but nothing that would indicate she hadn't learned the language until her later teens. 

Yasha chuckled. "I would hope so. It has been seventeen years, after all." Her face grew serious again. "Either way, I ended up joining the military when I was twenty-one."

"You're a vet?" 

"I guess." She sighed. "There didn't seem to be much else I could do at the time. Sometimes I wish I'd tried harder to look for other ways." 

Beau didn't have to ask to pick up on the fact that Yasha seemed reluctant to talk about that time of her life. There were probably more than a few painful memories attached to it, and Beau wasn't going to bug her about it. She understood wanting to keep quiet about some parts of one's past. 

"When did you get discharged?" Beau asked instead. That seemed innocuous enough. 

"Five years ago." Yasha moved to yet another table. It didn't really look like it needed any more cleaning. "It was an honorable discharge. I- I was in an accident. I wasn't fit for service anymore after that." 

Beau didn't miss the way her hands shook. She went over to Yasha and gently placed a hand on her forearm. 

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it."

Yasha looked up at her, her brow furrowed. "I know. I just..." 

She looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't. With another soft sigh, she straightened up, rag in hand. "Thank you, Beau."

It did sound sincere. Beau gave her a smile and took the rag from her. "Nothing to thank me for." 

She brought the rag and her broom into the back and locked up, then grabbed her stuff from where she'd stashed it behind the counter. "Thanks again for helping," she said seriously. "You really didn't have to." 

"I know. I wanted to." 

They walked out of the bakery, down the hallway and out into the dark parking lot together. For a moment, they both stood there, just outside the ring of light from a nearby street lantern. The cool evening breeze played with a strand that had come loose from Beau's topknot. Somewhere a car honked in the distance. 

Yasha's pale features were somehow even more striking in this dim light. God, Beau wanted to spend hours studying that face, mapping out every line, every slope, every crease, memorize all of it until she could recall every detail in her sleep. 

They both started at once. 

"Would you like to-" 

"Do you want-" 

They stopped, stared at each other, then Yasha started- giggling. 

Beau almost melted on the spot. It was the most adorable thing she'd ever seen. 

"What were you going to say?" she asked, half dazed from the way Yasha's eyes seemed to sparkle. 

"Oh, I was going to ask, well..." Yasha toyed with one of the braids in her long hair, something Beau had noticed she seemed to do a lot when she was nervous. "If you wanted to exchange numbers and maybe talk more? Or meet up outside of work sometime?" 

Beau felt like she'd been hit by a sledgehammer and somehow it was a glorious feeling. She was sure she was grinning like an idiot as she nodded, probably a bit too hard.

She hastily put her number into Yasha's phone, saving it under _Beau ;)_ before handing it back to her, feeling giddy with excitement in a way she hadn't since she'd been a teenager. Jester would be absolutely elated. She couldn't wait to tell her everything. 

"Well... good night," she breathed, still grinning. Yasha smiled back. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Beau's cheek that made her feel a little like she'd been struck by lightning. 

"Good night, Beau."

She watched Yasha walk away in the direction of the bus stop until her form vanished in the night. Then Beau practically skipped to her car. She could barely keep herself from squealing like a schoolgirl with a crush, and she knew it was embarrassing, but the most beautiful, intriguing, amazing woman she'd ever met had just asked her for her number and what sounded like it could maybe be a date, and dammit, Beau was allowed to be ecstatic. 

She spent her whole drive home grinning from ear to ear, and she was pretty sure the grin didn't leave her face until she moment her head hit her pillow and she fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> as mentioned in the tags this is modeled VERY closely after the hardware store/garden center where i work. some people in the beauyasha discord server actually gave me this idea when i mentioned there was a bakery across the hallway and they immediately said it sounded like the premise for a coffee shop au fanfic
> 
> thank you so much to leo for giving this a good once over before i posted it!


End file.
